Krauss’s Parsifal is another memorable interpretation, on a par with though different from Knappertsbusch in 1951 (now on Naxos). Krauss’s reading is one of the quickest in the Bayreuth annals, but that very pace gives the piece a direct vigour and dramatic consistency not always heard in his coeval’s deeply considered, reverential reading. Krauss imparts a wonderful feeling for the particular texture and tempo needed for each scene, culminating in the cleansing, sustained ecstasy of the work’s close.

Four principals are common to both sets. Ludwig Weber, as Gurnemanz, sings with even more rotund tone and with increased involvement. George London repeats his anguished, strongly voiced Amfortas. Martha Mödl’s Kundry’s individually accented Kundry remains unique, although Waltraud Meier, in more recent performances, is almost her equal, and Uhde is unsurpassed as Klingsor. With Wind- gassen singing Siegfried, Vinay took over from him in the title part and gives a typically expressive performance. He, Mödl and Uhde make the whole of Act 2 as vivid as any. Greindl is a suitably sonorous Titurel. Throughout chorus and orchestra perform with dedication – try the Act 1 transformation and the succeeding choruses. Altogether this is a traversal of the score among the most satisfying on CD.

Late in his career, Leonard Bernstein returned to the greatest orchestral work by his lifelong friend, Aaron Copland, with a performance that eclipsed all others, including Bernstein’s own previous recording of the Symphony no. 3 on Sony. Though Copland’s stock still hadn’t climbed back to its present height, Bernstein gave the music a grandeur that made you forget how much of a cliché the Fanfare for the Common Man–which was worked into the finale of the Third–can be. In fact, many of the world-stopping qualities Bernstein brought to his second Mahler cycle for Deutsche Grammophon seem much in evidence here, with the New York Philharmonic playing as though its collective life depended on it. –David Patrick Stearns

The Waldbühne Concert given by the Berliner Philharmoniker marks the end of the 2009/10 season. More recently visitors to the orchestra’s Waldbühne concerts have been regaled by some of the greatest opera singers of our age, including such operatic legends as Plácido Domingo and Luciano Pavarotti, the Mexican tenor Rolando Villazón and the wonderful Russian soprano Anna Netrebko.

A further high point in the history of the Waldbühne concerts was undoubtedly the appearance of the charismatic American soprano Renée Fleming, who brought to this “Night of Love” her soft-toned but richly coloured voice. “It’s such a beautiful place,” she told the Berliner Zeitung. “When you’re standing there on the stage, you have the feeling that you can sing into the sky.” Concert-goers must have been able to share this feeling when a singer described by the Daily Telegraph as the “queen of the Metropolitan Opera” sang the highly poetical Song to the Moon from Dvorák’s opera Rusalka and gazed lovingly at the orbiting moon, which had just become visible in the night sky.

Despite all the praise heaped on Solti’s Ring (and rightly so), it wasn’t the only extraordinary Wagner opera project from the early 1960s that featured the Vienna Philharmonic in incandescent form. Rudolf Kempe may not have been a podium superstar, but he was an inspiring musician, a seasoned man of the theater, and an absolute genius when it came to balancing orchestras. If you think, as some understandably do, that Wagner’s Lohengrin is often four square in its phrase shapes and dramatically plodding, Kempe will convince you otherwise. Time and again we are struck by how the Vienna Philharmonic, collectively and individually, sets the emotional and dramatic tone for what happens on stage. And what a cast! Elisabeth Grümmer, who remains the most three-dimensional Elsa on record, partnered Jess Thomas in the title role. He is slightly less involved under the microphone’s scrutiny than his more unbuttoned live Bayreuth performance under Sawallisch a few years earlier. Christa Ludwig and Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau bring riveting authority to Ortrud and Telramund, and the veteran Gottlob Frick’s eloquent King Henry also stands out. EMI’s 20-bit facelift offers a tinge more presence than the label’s previous CD transfer, but if you own the latter there’s no need to replace it. At mid-price, though, you can’t get a better Lohengrin than this. It belongs in every serious Wagner collection.

Leonard Bernstein’s performance of Copland’s Third Symphony has had to wait a long time before finally appearing on CD. Part of the delay no doubt stemmed from the fact that DG released a second, later recording with the same orchestra, in digital sound. Comparing the two versions, both of which are very good, one prefers this first performance. Not only does the music move a bit more quickly, with sharper rhythms and a stronger sense of the dance (never far from Copland’s musical thoughts), but the sonics are more naturally pleasing. The coupling is a terrific performance of the early Organ Symphony, which the composer wrote for his teacher, Nadia Boulanger. –David Hurwitz